


Between Lightning and Thunder

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, Thor (2011)
Genre: Dom!Loki, F/M/M, Multi, Thor/Loki/Lady Loki, Threesome, illusion sex, psudo-incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The tension between them rose to an unbearable level, reminding Thor of the moment between lightning and thunder, a moment of waiting for something inevitable, something natural to follow."</p><p>[post-Avengers]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Lightning and Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lovely [Callipygian-Loki's](http://callipygian-loki.tumblr.com/) birthday. Full notes at the end.

 

 

When word reached him that Loki had escaped, several emotions, some at war with one another, rose in Thor, but none of them were surprise. He’d always assumed his brother’s captivity was going to be brief—getting out of cages, getting out of taking responsibility for his actions, was Loki’s specialty.

Odin had every available man and woman searching for the escapee, but Thor had little faith their time and energy would yield anything. Loki was almost certainly long gone from Asgard. Thor did as his father asked, of course, and he searched thoroughly, but still he moved with a perfunctory air he could not dispel.

Through the rest of the day a mean little thought began to pull at Thor’s mind: what if he didn’t even want his brother found? Knowing that Loki was chained and confined in the depths of Asgard had not been easy for Thor; he’d felt guilt whenever the fact floated to the surface of his consciousness, which was far too often. The guilt was irrational; Loki had done all those things by his own choice. But still Thor wondered if he could have said or done something to prevent his brother’s madness and hate.

He should have been a better brother—should have noticed his brother’s envy and pain a thousand years before Loki had usurped the throne.

After a long day of futile search, Thor retired to his rooms with an unusual silence, not even bothering to join his friends for dinner. He knew they’d be carousing and enjoying themselves as they always did, and he couldn’t bear to pretend that Loki’s disappearance was a mere blip on the radar, as his friends in Midgard would say.

While his feet guided him along a well known path, Thor struggled with two conflicting feelings about his brother’s escape. On the one hand, he was glad that Loki was free of his prison, but on the other, he knew the trickster would wonder through the universe growing bitterer and more hateful and more powerful. Loki’s wounds would fester until time brought him back into Thor’s path again. By then it might be too late to convince him that he didn’t need revenge, he only needed to accept that his place was here in Asgard and that their parents _did_ love him, frost giant or no. Loki needed to realize that he had a brother who loved him, too.

The hollow echo of his footfalls followed him into his bedchamber, and he was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t notice when the bolt slid noiselessly into place, locking the door behind him.

Thor took off his armor with the same air he’d been walking with, doing it all with muscle memory and stiff movements. Lying in his soft bed brought him little comfort, but he closed his eyes resolutely, hoping that sleep and a new day would help resolve the turmoil in his mind.

His dreams were understandably dark and troubled, but through the haze of illogical happenings something very realistic began to emerge; Thor fancied he saw a beautiful woman standing near his bed, watching him sleep with a perfectly expressionless face—the kind of face that hid untold powerful emotions. That sort of artificial blankness only came with great skill at deception, and then it hit him—Thor realized that the lines of her face, the fall of her dark hair, and her eyes, such a clear and striking green, they were Loki’s. Though there was a softness in the curve of her jaw that wasn’t quite like his brother’s, and the more obvious curves along her torso, it had to be the same person.

An illusion of some sort. _Shocking_. Slowly Thor sat up, realizing that he was awake now, and that Loki was here with him. Not to harm him, probably, or he’d have done it by now. Thor saw a chance to try to convince Loki to forgive him, to make things as they had been before—better than they had been before.

Before he could move to stand, an invisible force pressed against him, then a hand materialized, resting against his chest. The rest of Loki shimmered into view, sitting on the edge of the bed. This was the real Loki—perhaps. It was always hard to tell. The other one, the woman, still stood watching him, but now her expression was not so opaque; sorrow was shining through, and envy, and something else Thor couldn’t pin down. She was wearing a crown that resembled his brother’s helmet, the curved golden horns almost too bright in the dimly lit room.

“Why have you come here?” Thor asked when the silence grew too thin.

“Not to murder you while you sleep,” he responded easily, lightly, the usual playfulness in his voice. But he was avoiding the question.

“Why haven’t you left Asgard? Give me a reason I shouldn’t take you back to your cell this very moment.” The words were harder than he’d meant, but Loki brushed them away with a pale hand.

“You’d never send me back there. And I will leave this place in my own time.”

“But you came to gloat first?”

“I thought you might want to know how I did it.” Loki’s hand was still on Thor’s bare chest, but the pressure was gone. If he really wanted to, he could stand up, restrain his brother, call the guards—but he didn’t want to. This was his chance, maybe his last chance to help Loki.

Flicking his eyes from his brother’s face to the woman and back, Thor answered slowly, “The usual ways, I imagine.”

“Do you think me so devoid of imagination?” Loki’s smile was humorless. The female illusion began to walk towards the bed then, her expression mirroring the real Loki—if he was real. Her movements were purposefully sinuous, seductive, but the artifice of it made Thor scornful rather than aroused. He’d thought his brother better than to be so _obvious_.

As if reading his thoughts, Loki smirked. “I know, it’s so trite, but the guards—well, they don’t know me as well as you do. They fell for us. Such an easy way to distract someone.” The female version, who Thor was beginning to think of as Lady Loki, moved to sit on Loki’s lap. The way his brother held the illusion was shockingly realistic, as if she were real flesh and blood.

Realization hit Thor, and he let out a noise somewhere between laughing and choking. “You—you distracted them by—?”

An image flickered into existence a few yards away: Loki and Lady Loki lying on the floor—well, _lying_ was too passive a word for it. Thor looked away quickly, the blush in his cheeks only partially from embarrassment.

“No need for modesty,” Loki quipped, eyes not leaving Thor’s, “We’re not related, after all, so no harm in looking.” Lady Loki, the one whose pale flesh was a blur in Thor’s peripheral vision, let out a moan. “Or listening.”

In an attempt to distract himself from his growing arousal, Thor wondered how someone could manage what Loki was doing—only one of them was real; the other three were figments of the frost giant’s imagination. And yet each one seemed perfectly real, and the two on the floor—Thor glanced at them, then away again, but not quickly enough for his brother to miss it—weren’t just pale imitations of lovers. Even in the low light he could see beads of sweat on their skin, he could hear the illusion’s breath quicken to a pant as his female counterpart moved on top of him. Every tiny detail was seen too, even down to the way they looked at each other, eyes with dilated pupils full of lust and just a hint of a smile, as Thor imagined Loki would truly be when he—

He swallowed slowly, forcing his mind away from that thought and back towards a detached appreciation of Loki’s skill. The mental dexterity that it took to cast that illusion was far beyond Thor’s imagination. He was not a stupid Asgardian by any means, but Loki mind was far beyond his. In humans, genius and madness often went hand-in-hand, and perhaps it was the same for his brother. A mind with so many corridors was bound to have shadowed, dark places where monsters lived.

This clinical pondering about the source of Loki’s madness was completely derailed by the lovers. Her moans became louder, more urgent, then rose in pitch. Nothing about it sounded forced or fake, and though part of Thor wanted to avert his eyes and hum to himself until it was over, he couldn’t. Loki—well, the illusion on the floor—was obviously approaching climax as well, lips parted around gasping breaths. They came together, and just after her cries subsided, the illusion vanished.

“I can’t blame the guards for letting me slip away. Can you?”

Thor slowly turned his eyes back to Loki, who was still sitting with Lady Loki. Both were watching him closely, and then he remembered he’d been asked a question. “No one is without weakness. And you are—skillful.”

The trickster’s gaze flicked to Thor’s obvious erection below the blankets, then slowly raked across his bare torso. “I certainly am.” Loki at last moved his hand away from Thor’s skin, and he was surprised to find he missed the warmth of the touch.

“Wh—why did you come here, really?” Thor managed, because he knew that Loki was only playing one of his games, and the display had been meant to throw him off.

“I assume the guards will lie about how I escaped, and I did not want my brilliance to go unappreciated.”

“Why tell me, though?” he asked, but he knew the answer before Loki gave it.

“No one else gives a damn.”

“That’s not true, Loki, Father—”

“Please,” and there was something other than mocking humor in his eye’s now, and Lady Loki’s expression was guarded again. “Don’t bother lying. You claimed that everyone mourned my supposed death, but I know what truly happened. Only you mourned, because only you ever loved me. Ah,” he interrupted before Thor had more than opened his mouth to retort. “No lies. They all tolerated me because of my pretend parentage, or for your sake. But I had no true friends. Only you.”

“This is your _home_ ,” Thor pleaded, feeling the hope that he would be able to convince his brother to stay flooding away.

“No, it was only ever a prison for me.” The open expression of pain in his eyes hardened to anger. “I fear you will always be too blind and too foolish to believe it, however.”

“So you came for one last round of insults?” Thor murmured. “You call me a fool, and yet you will not allow yourself to see the truth of it. I am sorry, Loki, for not realizing your isolation, your pain.” The other looked away, past the illusion of his female self, eyes shining, and so Thor gently placed his hands on either side of Loki’s face, turning him so that their eyes met again. “You will _always_ be my brother. I hope that one day you can forgive me.”

A laugh that sounded two steps away from a sob escaped Lady Loki’s throat. She spoke, her voice uncannily like Loki’s, though a little higher. “Step aside and let me have the throne, if you love me so dearly.”

Thor shook his head, letting his hands fall from his brother’s face. “Indulgence is not love.” He spoke to her now, because of the crown she wore; Loki’s head was bare and his armor was devoid of the golden trappings of a would-be king. “You have much to learn if you would rule anyone.”

They both rolled their eyes. The effect was almost comical.

“Your actions on Earth prove that.” His voice softened from that of a lecturing older sibling to genuine concern. “Is there nothing I can say to convince you not to leave?”

“There are certainly things you could do to make me stay—for the night. But indefinitely…” His voice trailed off vaguely, and he tilted his head as if considering. “Not likely. I have business elsewhere.”

The way Loki spoke, and the heat in his eyes as he watched Thor, made the latter remember the earlier illusion, a rush of images that were just as effective in memory. The juxtaposition of his sudden arousal against his sorrow at losing his brother was disconcerting. But his feelings about Loki did nothing to stop a physical reaction, or the nameless need that rose inside him.

His mind scrambled for something to say to diffuse the tension between them—tension that was charged with electricity and desire. For a moment Thor wondered if it was one-sided, but then a warm hand brushed his side, settling on his hip. It was Lady Loki’s hand, which made Thor look at Loki in wonder.

“She—”

“Oh? You hadn’t realized? What do you think I’ve been doing locked up all this time? Learning to knit?” As if to further prove his ability to make an illusion that was more than empty light, she leaned forward, placing soft kisses along his collar bone and neck.

A shudder ran through him, but he watched Loki levelly, trying not to show too much of a reaction.

Loki’s lips curled into a smile that made Thor’s pulse quicken. The tension between them rose to an unbearable level, reminding Thor of the moment between lightning and thunder, a moment of waiting for something inevitable, something natural to follow. A question of _when_ , not _if_. The waiting was enough to drive someone insane.

Lady Loki’s hand moved lower as Loki leaned forward until his lips were less than an inch from Thor’s.

Unable to wait longer, Thor closed the distance, a hand moving without bidding to run through Loki’s hair. The kiss was light, tentative on Thor’s part; he still had no idea if this had been his brother’s intention, or if Loki had only meant to tease him, then disappear forever.

His unspoken question was answered when he felt Lady Loki’s hand brush his cock, then begin to stroke it. At the same time, Loki parted his lips and flicked his tongue out; an invitation.

Thor couldn’t help but moan a little as he deepened their kiss, feeling his former hesitation turn to pure lust, bright and sharp. He moved up, intending to climb on top of Loki, but the other pulled away a little, smirking.

“I suppose you fuck like you fight—straight-forward and with single-minded purpose.” His voice was low and tinted with desire. Thor didn’t think he was pretending. “But we shall do this my way. Trust me.”

“And do you—“ he gasped as the female illusion began to gently suck the tip of his cock, “—fuck like you fight?”

“Of course,” Loki whispered in his ear, breath sending shivers along Thor’s neck. He let himself be pushed back onto the pillows, back arching. He glanced down to where Lady Loki was between his legs; their eyes met, and for one uncanny moment Thor wasn’t sure that the real Loki was the male one.

Just after that he stopped wondering, stopped caring.

Loki pushed Thor’s arms above his head, holding both wrists with one pale, elegant hand. The other he ran through Thor’s hair, pulling it a little, enough to tilt his head back but not so much as to cause him pain.

“I could make you beg,” Loki murmured, “I could make you swear to do anything as long as I do not stop.”

Thor believed him completely. He very rarely felt as powerless as he did now, but his lack of concern about his position was surprising. A large part of him wanted Loki to make him beg, to do whatever he wanted with him. No one had ever elicited such a response from Thor, and for a moment he wondered how it was that his brother could do this to him. He’d never lusted after Loki, but something about him now—the normally evasive, mask-wearing trickster was showing his true self, and Thor found it intoxicating.

Loki was driving him mad; every movement he and his female counterpart made seemed designed to draw him along a razor’s edge between pleasure and release. A hand brushing along his side as a tongue moved across his head, a kiss as desperate and heated as the rhythm of hands and mouth on his cock—they were perfectly in sync, and all Thor could do was ask for _more, more, more, don’t stop, please, Loki, more_.

Loki did indeed fuck like he fought—with skill above strength, each step planned perfectly so that he would have any enemy or lover in his power completely, making them dance however he wanted.

Lady Loki moved up, straddling Thor. Beneath her dark green dress was only pale, soft skin, and she slipped him inside her almost before he realized what was happening. He wanted to touch her, to rip her clothing off, but his hands were still bound by Loki, and so he watched her as she rode him. Skin-tight leather and gold hid little anyway, and he was transfixed by the smooth motion of her abdomen and hips. It took Thor a moment to realize that Loki was reclining near them, watching with half-closed eyes but no longer participating other than to keep Thor pinned down.

“Beg me not to stop.” There was more than just lust in Loki’s eyes—there was a need for something deeper, “Beg me to stay. Tell me you cannot weather this night without me in your bed.”

Through gasps he managed the words, or a clipped version of them at least, then added, “I—I mean it, Loki. I need you.”

He missed his brother’s reaction to that, too distracted by a quickly approaching climax. But Thor did meet Loki’s gaze as he came—watched the genuine Loki, one without a false crown.

Lady Loki shimmered away, leaving only the real Loki and Thor to stare at each other, silent but for heavy breathing. He realized, then, that the illusion had been a shield for his brother, a barrier to protect him. Loki wouldn’t put himself in danger if he could help it, and he also would not put himself in a position where he could be rejected by Thor, who he considered to be the only person on Asgard who cared about him.

“Loki,” he whispered, moving his now-free hand to brush a stray lock of hair from his brother’s face. “Stay.”

“You would hide me from Odin here? Bring me scraps from the table?” Loki turned away, leather of his armor creaking. “No. But I will stay the night, perhaps.” Green eyes, alight with new and devilish mischief, looked back at Thor. “If you beg.”

Thor did.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time writing porn, and my first time writing Avengers fanfic. Sorry for any liberties taken with Loki's abilities, or Lady Loki in general (I'd love to read the comics, but I have no idea where to start! So yeah, I'm one of THOSE people.)


End file.
